Race, economics and social justice are just some of the thorny issues Shelley Luther and her supporters have raised.

Hairdresser Lindsay Stone returned to work on May 8 in Richardson. She said she thinks one of the reasons why Dallas has been talking about haircuts so much during the pandemic is because of the feeling you have after getting one.(Smiley N. Pool / Staff Photographer)

In the middle of a global public health emergency that has stretched longer than most could have imagined, that has killed at least 272,000 people and has brought the most technologically advanced societies to a wretched halt, Dallas has been enthralled by haircuts.

The trial this week of Shelley Luther, a Dallas-area salon owner who disobeyed both local and state orders to open up her shop, has captured the zeitgeist and raised all sorts of thorny questions beyond just how to safely return to work.

What job is essential? Which life is dispensable? Who has the right to disobey the law?

And then there is a real head-scratcher: Why has hair, the long chain of proteins that grow out of us — well, most of us — become a symbolic faultline in this moment?

As absurd as we might think an argument over haircuts seems as barbershops and hair salons reopened Friday, interviews with hairstylists, philosophers and academics reveal something deeper and complex.

Hair is both an act of expressing individualism and social standing. It’s about taking control of a situation and letting go of your worries. It’s about lifting yourself up when you’re down, and it’s about impressing others.

There is no other feeling like seeing a new hairdo for the first time, said Lindsay Stone, a Richardson-based stylist who specializes in color.

“You spin around in the chair and you look at your reflection and you're instantly happier,” she said.

Brad Bykkonen, who has been cutting hair for more than 30 years, said a haircut can bring a sense of empowerment.

“When people are faced with an uncontrollable situation, the one thing they can control is their appearance,” he said. “They feel they have a grip on it when they can get their hair cut or styled or feel good.”

While waiting for unemployment insurance to kick in, he went to work cutting hair underground. Reaction to his decision to disobey the stay-at-home orders to cut hair was mixed on social media, where he advertised his services.

“People shamed me,” he said. “Others said I was an essential business.”

Ultimately, somebody reported him to the state. In a sting operation, a state regulator reached out asking for an appointment. After booking it, Bykkonen was told he had been caught and to cease cutting hair at once. He did and is now planning to open his own private studio in a space shared by other hairstylists. He’s calling his new studio Brad’s Speakeasy.

Bykkonen said he respected Luther’s decision to reopen her shop.

“I think people need to do what they need to do to put food on the table. If people want to get back to work, work. If you want to stay home, stay home. I don't think people should force opinions on each other that way.”

And yet, the live-and-let-live mentality that has long defined America can no longer be the matrix through which we make moral decisions, said Matthew Brown, a philosophy professor at the University of Texas at Dallas.

“What the pandemic shows is our inability to separate individual good and the collective good,” he said. "This particular context really heightens our interdependence in ways that are not usually so pressing or visible."

You also cannot divorce this conversation about blowouts from race, economics and social justice, said political scientists Nadia E. Brown, a professor at Purdue University, and Danielle Casarez Lemi, a fellow at Southern Methodist University. Together, they are writing a book on the politics of appearance for black women politicians.

Brown and Lemi point out that black, Latino and Asian people are overrepresented in the beauty industry. Meanwhile, most of the people supporting Luther in Dallas and protesting other stay-at-home orders around the country appear to be white.

“The stay-at-home orders interfere with one group’s ability to receive services from industries that are low-paid and disproportionately nonwhite,” Lemi said.

And black women, in particular, have been tormented over their hair since being brought to America as slaves. In some instances, Brown said, women in slavery had their heads branded so that their hair could not grow out.

“Your hair signals your race, class and gender,” Brown said. “Your social standing. We think we have so much agency in how we present our bodies, but it's very constrained.”

Monique Campbell works on her friend Kierra Walker's hair at her home in Melissa, Texas.(Vernon Bryant / Staff Photographer)

N’Dyon Davenport, a black 20-year veteran of the hair industry, saw the governor’s reaction to Luther as unequal. She said she would never have thought to break the law as Luther did.

“It's a double standard and we know why,” she said.

Davenport wrestled with going back to work Friday, worried she wouldn’t be able to provide full service to her clients to keep them safe. However, after seeing so much demand and discussing safety precautions with the owner of the salon where she works, she decided to pick up the scissors and leave the debate behind.

“People want to feel and look good, especially through trying times,” she said. “You don’t want to look as bad as the times are going. People express themselves through their hair. They miss that feeling.”

Nic Garcia. Nic Garcia covers Dallas County government and politics. He previously worked at The Denver Post covering the statehouse and two presidential campaigns. He also worked for Chalkbeat, a national nonprofit news organization that covers education. Garcia is a Colorado native who is excited to explore the Lone Star State.